


Living Next Door To Paul Landers

by nickcullenlind1



Category: Rammstein
Genre: Age Difference, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Relationships, M/M, Romantic Friendship, Trans Male Character, University
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-28
Updated: 2018-10-02
Packaged: 2019-02-23 01:42:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13179687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nickcullenlind1/pseuds/nickcullenlind1
Summary: Alex moves to Berlin as an exchange student and on his way to his new apartment, he bumps (literally) into Paul Landers, his neighbour, a guitarist from a band he's never heard of.





	1. Welcome To Berlin

I've never wanted to go to Berlin. There's too much of a stigma around Germany. Too much shit about people from the war. Or wars, I should say. So many elderly survivors raving on about the Nazis and Hitler and yet I still decided to come here, against my grandmother's wishes.

For university. That's four long years. "Alex, you've probably made the biggest mistake of your life." I mutter quietly to myself as the taxi pulls into the bus station. The driver turns to face me and smiles. "Anywhere else you'd like to go?" He offers but I shake my head. 

"I'm fine. Tha..I mean..danke."  correct myself quickly and he smiles. "Okay then. €2.40." He announces and I dig through my pockets for loose change. "Here." I pass him the full three euros and he smiles again. 

"Keep the change." I jump out of the car, checking my phone is still in my pocket and I shrug on my rucksack. I pull out my suitcase and drag it behind me, on it's wheels. 

The driver beeps the horn and I wave as he pulls away. Now I have to figure out how to get to my new street without him. With just a dingy old map that I bought at the airport. 

"Why did I tell him to drive away?" I complain and trudge miserably towards the streetlight's zebra crossing. I cross the road as a million cars from either side of the road line up to run me over and at this point, I'm ready for it. 

                ************

It takes forever until I start to recognise the buildings I saw on the campus's website. The dingy block of flats are definately familiar and I sigh as I head over to them. I'm sweating although Germany is so cold and I think icicles are growing on my nose.

I lift my head to scan the various apartment blocks which are so high that I have to cran my neck. I'm too short for eighteen. 5"4 is not how I imagined I'd look like as an adult. 

I keep walking and looking as I head down the street, my neck starting to ache until suddenly I feel something bang into my chest and I facepalm into someone. 

"Shit!" I fall forwards but I'm caught by some older guy with tufty bits of hair like a halo shape. He's dressed all in black and he's donning a leather jacket. Then I realise he's only about two or three inches taller than me, which is a relief. 

The one thing I'd hate is if I was surrounded by tall Germans who squash me and overcrowd me at enrollment day. 

"Hi!" He smiles brightly and I raise my eyebrows in surprise. "Uh..hi, you alright?" I reply and he blinks at me. "That's a nice accent." He compliments and I roll my eyes. I knew I'd experience something like this in another country. 

"Thanks, people don't usually like the Welsh accent." I admit and his eyebrows narrow. "Welsh? Where are you from?" He looks curious and I sigh. "Wales." I announce and I wheel my suitcase up towards the front door of Block B in the apartments. 

"Is that in the UK?" He asks genuinely and I glance at him to check if he's being serious. "Surely you've heard of Wales? It's the small country next to England on the map." I summarise and his face lights up with recognition. 

"Of course. We played there once, I think. A while ago." He adds and I frown at him. "We?" I question and he smiles this childlike, innocent smile. 

"I'm sorry, I forgot. I'm Paul, I'm from Rammstein." He introduces and I feel quite guilty for not knowing the band. "I'm Alex." I shake his hand firmly and turn back to the apartment block. 

"Block B, student village." He reads the battered plate on the brick wall. "You're a student?" He looks me up and down and I know it's because I'm a shortass and I look like someone's kid brother. 

"Yeah, I'm eighteen. I just finished college." I explain and he opens the door to block and ushers me in. "How long is college in Wales?" He questions as we head up the stairs which are old and unstable looking. 

"Two years. Now I'm here to do my degree in engineering." I almost boast, knowing I should be proud of my achievements that got me this far but there's something about this guy that makes me feel more humble. 

"So you live in Wales yet you've come to Germany for university? In an apartment? On your own?" He sounds in awe and I shrug. "My parents wanted me to see the world." I dig through my pockets and pull out the keys. 

"I'm in 328." I read the number from the label and he sighs. "That's the third floor. Let's try the lift." He presses the button and the doors open with a ding. I wheel the suitcase inside and the doors close as Peter...no...Paul presses the third floor button. 

He glances at my luggage. "You'll be here for a few years and you've only brought a bag and a suitcase." He observes and I sigh. "I know. I need to go shopping this afternoon to buy food and stationary. And a few books." I list and he laughs. 

"I would not like to be a student." He states and the doors open, revealing a hallway full of graffiti. We step through along the corridor. "You didn't go to uni?" I check and he glamces at me. "I'm Paul Landers and if you knew about the band, you'd know that I left school with zero qualifications. Nothing. I worked from the bottom." He announces proudly and I smile. 

"That's impressive." I admit and he smiles in return. "I know."   
We reach the 320s and I start to feel nervous and excited at once. "Ah, here we are." We stop outside apartment 328 and I wrinkle my nose. The red colour of the door is fading and the brass knocker is chipped. 

I slot the key into the door and push it open. We walk in and I dump my suitcase onto the floor. The carpet is a dark green and is stained in patches. Probably where drinks have been spilled. 

I walk through the hallway and into the living room. The furniture is there like the website said but the two sofas are covered in someone's random blankets which are dotted with stains. The coffee table is in decent shape and the TV looks okay. 

The windows have blinds thank God. I'll need the privacy when I'm crying over the exams. I retrieve the blankets and head back to the front door, throwing them outside. 

Paul follows me into the kitchen which is littered with empty beer cans, dirty plates and leftover mouldy food. "Mein Gott." He groans, covering his nose with his hand. The fridge freezer, microwave and oven are all there but God knows what shape they're in. 

"Check the fridge." I turn to Paul and he walks over and opens it quickly. "Empty." He reveals, showing an empty fridge with a flickering light. "Good. The last thing I need is to be ripping out the fungi growing inside it." I huff and he laughs. 

"You talk fast." He comments and I smile. "We always have, the Welsh." I confirm, smirking. "They say," I stop, slowing myself down. "They say...that we are the fastest talking people in the UK." I add slowly and Paul smiles back. 

"You said you wanted to travel, but why Germany?" Paul questions and I start stacking the dirty plates to take them outside. "Germany is the best place to study engineering." I justify and he nods with pride. 

"That's true. Let me help you with that." He takes some of the plates from me and heads towards the front door. "Diolch." I smile at him and he looks over his shoulder. 

"What does that mean?" He asks and I head over to the door with him, placing the dirty plates outside on the corridor. "It's 'thank you' in Welsh." I translate and he drops the plates and turns back to me. 

"How do you say...'my name is Paul' in Welsh?" He looks excited at the concept of learning my language and I feel a little thrill; I could use another Welsh speaker. "It's 'Paul dw i.'." I translate and he screws up his face in confusion. 

"Paul..doo..ee.." He repeats, sounding out each syllable and I laugh. "That's good." I assure and he smiles. We walk back into the apartment and I step into the kitchen. I look at the various empty cartons and beer cans. The mouldy food still sits on the counter and the cutlery will have to go with the plates outside. 

"I'm going to need bin bags. And other cleaning products. It's time to activate University Doomsday protocall." I announce and Paul looks confused. 

"What's the protocall?" He questions and I smile, zipping up my jacket. I grab my keys. "We go shopping."


	2. Shopping.....Yay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Story continued

We head outside of the apartment and I slot my wallet into my jeans pocket, alongside my phone. Paul, as a citizen of Berlin, knows all the best places for shopping for certain things. "There's a...supermarket about ten minutes away." He pipes up as we walk towards the pavement. 

"Let's head over." I start to examine the certain signs dotted at every corner of the street for directions which are written in German. "What are you doing?" Paul is behind me, smiling brightly and I feel confused. 

"Looking for directions." I explain and he laughs. "I've lived here all my life. I know where to go. Besides," He pulls out a fob of keys and displays them. "We can take my car." He strides to a sleek black sportscar parked next to me, outside a large three storey black and white house, with a large, gothic like gate standing a at least seven feet. 

"Wait." I turn to him, mouth half open. "You live here?" I gasp and he smiles. "Are Welsh people always this slow?" He teases and I step forward to slap him. He dodges and giggling, walks around to the drivers seat. "Ja, I live there." He points to the huge house. 

"And you live there." He points, to the block of mouldy apartments that I now call home. "What a difference in lifestyles we have." He jokes and I have to internally agree with him. "Yeah, lucky old me. I live in an apartment full of people's old possessions and you live in a palace." I scoff as I slide into the passenger seat. 

He giggles again and it reminds me of a young boy playing with his favourite toy. He's cute, I have to admit, in a playful way. "How old are you?" I ask him as he starts the engine and he smiles at me. 

"Fifty three." He states and I practically choke on the air around us. I cough and slutter while he stares at me, amused. He reaches over and rubs my back gently as if I'm choking and I give him the thumbs up to signal I'm okay. 

He backs off once he's sure I'm not about to die on him and I take deep breaths to steady my breathing. I sit up straight and give a nervous chuckle. "Sorry about that. I just..I didn't think you were that...." I trail off, not wanting to sound rude or offensive to him. 

"Old?" He finishes for me with his cheeky smile and I blush, feeling a little disrespectful. "It's fine." He assures and I look up at him warily. "Let's go." We pull away from the curb and he sets off driving towards the main road. 

I sit there, knitting my fingers together nervously until he breaks the silence. "What do we need to get?" He dares to grab a notepad from the glove compartment with one hand on the driving wheel and I bite at my tongue in anxiety. 

He lands it in my lap and I flip it open to a clean page. The pen is connected to the cover and I pull it out to start writing, listing things aloud as I go. "Washing up liquid, cloths, plates and cutlery. Food and drink, stationary and books." I list and Paul nods. 

"That sounds like a start." He sounds enthusiastic to start and I almost roll my eyes at him. "Do you actually like shopping? Why are you so positive?" I scoff and he laughs again. "I'm living the high life as a famous guitarist. I have every reason to smile." He pulls up outside a large supermarket and undoes his seatbelt. 

"You're starting university. The next chapter of your life, you have every reason to be positive too." He pokes my nose playfully and I have to smile at him. He emits this positive, childlike vibe that makes me want to jump up and down like a kid. 

"Come on, let's go shopping." He jumps out of the car and waits for me. I follow suit and throw the notepad at Paul who catches it and secures it inside his jacket pocket. 

"You'll have to translate for me. I can't read the labels." I mumble as we walk through the automatic doors. A wave of heat blares over us and I brush my hair from my eyes. "Damn, it's hot in here." I groan, unzipping my jacket and taking it off. 

"Here, let me." Paul grabs it and takes it from me. I look at him in surprise. "What a gentleman." I joke, letting him drape it across his arm to hold it. "Being old gives you manners." He teases back and I feel a little blush spread across my cheeks as he gives me his cute smile. 

"Come on." He winks, flipping open the notepad. "Cleaning supplies." He points to the aisle further down and leads me over. "Baskets are there." He informs as we walk past and I pick one up and haul it onto my arm. 

We stand in front of the cleaning supplies, and I have to distinguish what is what by looking at the shapes of the bottles. I pick up what I think is a bottle of bleach and shove it into the basket. "There's one for €1 there." Paul points out and I replace it with that one. 

"Danke." I pat Paul on the head playfully and to my surprise, he grabs my hand and kisses it. I gasp in surprise and he blinks, semi-offended. I mentally face palm myself for my outright rudeness and smile at him instead. 

He grins back in relief, and throws in some cleaning cloths and Flash spray for the counters. "Bin bags." I remind him and he nods, taking off around the corridor to fetch them, while I stand in there, fumbling from foot to foot awkwardly. 

"Entschuldigung, bitte." A tall man, with flopping dark hair approaches me and I stop moving in shock, not knowing the words to communicate back with him. "Uh...guten tag?" I reply uncertainly and before the man can give a response, Paul comes back with the bin bags. 

He goes to say something to me but recognises the man and smiles. "Till!" He yells, rushing over and hugging him to which Till responds with an amused smile. 

They converse in German while I stand there like a fool, cradling my basket full of cleaning products. "I still need plates and stuff...." I trail off, giving them their space to talk, and using that as an excuse to shop for plates. 

They're conveniently around the corner in the next aisle. I don't bother looking for anything fancy and just pick up plain white ones and a pack of steel cutlery. I place them carefully in the basket which suddenly gets a lot heavier from the added weight. 

It pulls me down a little and I struggle to carry it back over to Paul and Till. Paul laughs at my appearance and I give him the finger in response. "It's heavy, I've only got little arms." I protest and he smiles at me again, making me feel tingly. 

He retrieves the basket for me and as our hands touch, I feel a little spark. God, that sounds so corny. I groan inwardly. 

"If you're going to carry the basket, then let me carry my jacket, it's only fair." I point out but he laughs and shakes his head. "I can do it. Let me." He insists and turns to Till. 

"Till, this is Alex. He's just moved in next door in the student apartments." He introduces and Till holds out his hand. "Nice to meet you, I'm Till." He shakes my hand firmly and the strength of his shake almost crushes my bones. 

I internally wince but keep eye contact and smile politely. "Nice to meet you, too." I mumble through almost gritted teeth and he smiles shyly. "Till is the lead singer of our band." Paul explains and I nod enthusiastically as if I've heard of the band. 

Paul may seem okay but I don't want to offend this guy, Till. He's bigger than me, by a lot. Till picks up on my nerves and glances suspiciously at me to which I smile in response. 

"So you're stocking up on student supplies." He states rather than questions and I nod. "Yeah, my apartment was in much worse shape than I expected it to be." I smile casually and he nods, almost amused. "Student life isn't meant to be all clean and tidy, you know." He informs and I fold my arms almost defiantly. 

"Well clearly I'm not like most students." I stick out my chin like a kid and he turns to Paul with a smile. "He's not like most boys." 

I blush at his comment, knowing he's referring to my dyed purple hair. Paul gives him a mock glare and smiles at me. "Ignore him, Alex. I think you rock the purple  look." He compliments and I feel a deep warmth rush through me.   
"Danke, Paul." I smile and he beams again, emitting that childlike vibe. "Jesus, you two smile all the time. You're made for each other." Till scoffs and Paul blinks at his comment, making a point to keep his eyes off me. 

"I need toothpaste." I step past him to retrieve it from the shelf and spot something else I need. I'm unsure of whether I should grab them in front of Paul and especially Till but I don't want to make another trip to the shops after this one. 

I sigh and reluctantly reach for the period pads. I feel a hot, embarrassed blush spread all over me and I can hear that they've gone quiet. I turn and place them silently in the basket that Paul still holds, keeping my eyes on the floor.

"Why do you need those?" He asks quietly and I nervously meet his eyes. "I...I have a sister." I mumble and he narrows his eyebrows. "In Berlin?" He questions and I can feel my throat constricting. It's always so difficult buying period stuff when you've got no visible girlfriend or any female relative with you. 

If you do, then you can sort of convince the cashier that they're for your mother or aunt or whatever. But here in Berlin, with no family, there aren't many things I can make up.

It's so annoying being trans.

"I'll explain another time." I mumble quietly and his face softens, though he's still confused. "Okay, Alex. Another time." He says gently and I feel a little relief. I step back and ignoring Till's stares, I start heading down the aisle, searching for the food. 

I look over my shoulder where Till is nosily mumbling to Paul about our exchange. Paul looks as if he's not saying anything and that gives me relief. He walks over to and smiles brightly. 

"Now, let's get food." He beams. 

               **************

It takes about an hour before we've got everything we need and buy then, we're carrying a basket each, Till graciously helping out as we carry them onto the conveyer belt. Food, stationary, cleaning and bath products are scattered across it messily but I can't be bothered to arrange them neatly. 

The idea that after this I've got to go home and clean actually kills me. 

The cashier scans everything with that knowing look as she realises I'm a student and doesn't bother asking why I have a ridiculous amount of items. She scans the last item and the total appears on screen. 

€122.56.   
Fucking hell. 

"You're having a laugh," I whistle through my teeth but dig my wallet out anyway. I pull out six twenty notes and three coins.   
I pass it over wordlessly, knowing I need to get more money out of the bank later. 

She takes it and gives me a meagre 40p..no...40c in change. "Danke." I mumble and start lifting the heavy shopping bags. Paul and Till take a few each and I smile gratefully at them. 

We get to the car and pile them in the trunk so I can sit in the backseat.   
"Where now, Alex?" Paul asks from the wheel and I laugh tiredly. "Home, Paul. I'm fucking exhausted."


	3. Spring Cleaning

"I want to die, Paul." I groan and he nods grimly in agreement. "Yeah, me too. But we have to get started." He emits his positive, happy vibe and it cheers me a little bit. I really want to get this done, but....

"Paul, you are aware that this will take a while, right?" I check with him and he laughs. "I know, Alex, but in Berlin, we help our neighbours. Especially the hot nerd ones." He winks and I blush a little. 

I'm not really what you would call a nerd...or maybe I am. I don't know. It's stereotypical but I have glasses. They're pretty thick framed but I'm blind as a bat so they're neccesary. I like check shirts and converses and I love bracelets. Seriously, I have about eight on each arm. 

And then there's the purple hair and the occasional beanie. 

I think back to Paul's comment; hot nerd ones. Is he calling me hot? I groan inwardly. I do not have the experience to understand signs or compliments or crushes or whatever. I've always been the guy that you talk to in class a friend but nothing more. I'm not someone you'd consider dating. Or maybe in Berlin I am. 

"Thanks, Paul. For helping." I add quickly and he smiles. "It's fine." He shrugs, wearing rubber gloves and shoving a black bag into the new bin. "Okay." He smiles brightly. "Should we start with the food?" 

I head into the kitchen and with gloves on my hands, I pick up the mouldy food, breathing in so I can't be affected by the smell. I turn and throw it into the bin. Grab, turn, throw in the bin. I repeat it again and again until there's just the beer cans. I pick them up and throw them in too. 

Paul is in the living room, retrieving whoever's blanket that was and comes in with it bundled in his arms. He throws it into the bin before looking up at me and smiling. I blush in return and grin awkwardly back. 

He giggles at my response and heads back into the living room. I sigh at him, he's so playful and happy. Once the counter has been cleared, I retrieve the Flash spray and apply it on all countertops, leaving it to work it's magic while I start on the fridge. 

Paul comes back in for a cloth and some spray. "I want to wipe the sofas over. And the TV. There's fingerprints on it." He says in a mock gasp like a kid and I laugh. "Okay, Paul. Go and clean the TV." I pat his head like I did earlier but he doesn't kiss my hand this time. My reaction earlier probably scared him off. 

Instead, he winks and gets to work in the living room. I open up the fridge and spray in there too, to clean it out. I kneel on the floor and open the lower freezer compartment which is also bare to my relief. 

"Thank God." I sigh to myself and head into the living room while I wait for the spray's effects to kick in. Paul is gently rubbing at the TV screen with the cloth and smiles when I walk in. "Hey, nerd-boy." He jokes and I roll my eyes. "Hi, Paul." I reply and since the sofas are damp from spray, I sit cross legged on the floor, watching him. 

"Now that Till is gone, will you tell me about the...pad thing?" He questions uncertainly and I sigh. I knew he'd ask again so soon. "I didn't want to be rude or anything but I'm a curious guy." He smiles apologetically and I smile. 

"It's okay, Paul. Really, it's fine. It was too private to mention in the shop that's all." I assure and he nods in understanding. 

"So, tell me. Why are you buying period things for your sister who doesn't live in Berlin?" He teases from my comment earliet and I sigh again, thinking about how to word it properly. 

"I'm....trans." I shrug and he keeps cleaning, not looking at me. "What does that mean?" He asks gently and I nod, knowing he probably wouldn't have heard of it. "I was assigned female at birth." I state quietly and he stops, turning around to stare at me. 

"And now I'm transitioning from female...to male." I conclude and he looks surprised but not angry or pissed or mocking which is good. "You have a deep voice." He notes and I nod. "Yep, I'm on hormones. It makes you go through the changes of male puberty, more or less." I explain and he nods. 

"So if you're going through male puberty, how do you get periods?" He sounds confused. "I went through female puberty when I was around ten so I got periods and grew..." I gesture to my chest and he nods in understanding. "Boobs." He giggles and I smile. 

"Yeah, those. When you're on hormones, your periods will stop after a while but you can still get one or two out of the blue so I like to be prepared." I explain. "Just in case." He elaborates and I nod. "Yeah, exactly." 

"I've had top surgery. That means I had my...boobs..removed." I wince at that word and Paul notices. "And are you happy as you are now?" He asks interested, and I smile. "Yeah, pretty much. I still want to get bottom surgery in the future though." I add. 

"So....you have a vagina." He states uncertainly and I nod. "Yes, Paul, I do." I reply and he smiles. "That's cool. It's like...the best of both worlds." He teases and I blush, looking at the floor. 

"I guess, but I don't look at it in a sexual way." I shrug and he nods. "Of course you don't. It's cool though." He smiles, and runs his hand gently over my hair playfully. 

"Good for you, Alex. I'm happy for you." He praises and I take that as my que to get back into the kitchen. "Danke, Paul, for being understanding." I stand up and Paul comes over and hugs me. 

I blink in surprise but wrap my arms around him. "You're welcome." He replies in my ear and I tingle inside. We break apart and I start heading into the kitchen. I grab my cloth and wipe away the spray, revealing fresh clean counters. 

I do the same with the kitchen and throw the cloth in the sink. Time to get the food in the cupboards. I take the cereal, biscuits, noodles and pasta and shove them in one while the fruit and veg goes in another. 

I take the eggs, milk, butter, ham, bacon and yoghurts and shove them into the newly clean fridge.   
The bread goes in my new bread bin, obviously and fill up the freezer with the frozen food. "Thank God that's over." I go to the sink and wash my hands to get rid of that mouldy rubbish smell and catch up with Paul in the living room. 

He's finished and passes me the remote. "Let's see if it works." He says hopefully and I almost roll my eyes. The last thing I need after today is to go back to the shops to top up the electricity. And the gas. Ugh. 

Thankfully, the TV flickers on and a news programme appears on screen. "I think there are subtitles." Paul takes the remote and starts pressing the buttons until english subs come on screen, translating. 

"Thanks, Paul. I'd be screwed if they didn't have subs. Do they have english channels too?" I ask and he presses a few more buttons until a channel list appears. 

"Here." He gestures with the remote. "You just have to scroll down the list until you get to them." He explains and I feel a lot better. "Do they have a crime channel?" I peer at the list and he clicks onto one of them. "Ja, lucky old you." He giggles and ruffles my hair. 

"Just don't let it distract you from your work at university." He jokes and I feel my stomach tense at the idea of starting university in less than two weeks. "I'm not ready for uni, Paul." I admit and he smiles softly. 

"You'll be fine, Alex. I'm sure you're a clever guy." He reassures and I smile, feeling a little better. "Thanks, Paul." I sigh and I get up from the floor to lay on the sofa. "I might unpack my clothes later." I stretch out and rest my aching limbs. "Would you like me to massage you?" He offers, flashing me his cheeky grin. 

I gasp suddenly and he blushes at my response. "I'll pass for now, thank you." I mumble politely and close my eyes for a second. "I am so tired and there's still so much shit I need to do." I complain and he laughs, coming over to the sofa and sitting down near my feet, lifting my legs and putting them on his lap. 

"You're getting rather friendly, mister. We only met today and we're sharing a sofa. That's a friendship that's built to last." I tease and he smiles shyly. 

"If you'd like, you could become more than my friend." He offers and I groan at his advancing compliments. "Paul. Stop with your flirting. University isn't all about sleeping with people, it's about work and crying during exams. Calm yourself down."


	4. Invitation

It's been a week since I arrived at the apartment AKA the Shithole and things have been a little better since Paul helped me clean it up. After he had left, I hadn't even thought about the bedroom or bathroom and what state they were in.

Bathroom is a generous word for it; it's a cupboard sized room with a toilet, sink and tiny shower barely big enough for me to fit in and I'm 5"5. 

The bedroom is a little better. A single bed with plain sheets and a dresser drawer. A bedside table with a dodgy lamp that flickers if you leave it on for more than half an hour. All of my things have been unpacked and put away in their rightful places and all I have to do now is stress over starting uni in three days. 

I don't feel prepared for anything. For starting class. For making new friends. For anything. At least I've got everything I need here. And I don't have to share a dorm room with anyone. That would shake me up if they found out I'm trans. How would they react? 

Anything could happen. No. Stop, Alex. You're stressing over nothing, relax.   
I glance at the clock on my bedside table. 18:30. I might as well get up, it's been a long nap and maybe I should head into the town and explore. I've watched enough TV this last week. 

Tap, tap 

Dah fuck? I sit up in bed suddenly, pulling on my t-shirt. What was that? 

Tap, tap 

"Jesus Christ, if that's a woodpecker I'm going to knock it out." I grumble as I swing my legs out of bed and stand still, listening for anymore sounds. Then I hear a muffled voice. "Alex!" 

I jump a mile. "Jesus!" Who the fuck is that? I notice the tapping is coming from my window and open it, sliding it up and ducking my head underneath. 

My window faces the street and there stands Paul, illuminated by the street lights, throwing stones at the window. I rub my eyes wearily and sort my hair. "What are you doing down there? Why didn't you come in?" I question, squinting to see him. 

He flashes his cheeky grin. "I rang the buzzer but there was no answer. I can't get into the main building unless it's opened from the inside." He explains and I nod. "Yeah, sorry about that. I've been asleep." I admit sheepishly and he laughs. "You lazy boy." He teases affectionately and I flush red. 

"You look about twelve without your glasses." He notices and I groan at his comment. I disappear from the window to grab my glasses fron the table and put them on quickly. 

I go back to the window and Paul smiles. "There he is." He beams. "My indie, purple haired engineer." 

I smirk through my yawning. "Go to the main door, Paul. I'll buzz you in." I announce and he nods, rushing up the steps. I slide the window back down and quickly grab some trousers. I can't answer the door in my boxers and t-shirt. 

I dig out some old jogging bottoms from the drawer and haul them on quickly just as Paul rings the buzzer. I rush out of my room and to the answering phone. I lift the receiver and press the button, and I hear the main door creak open. 

I open my apartment door so he can come in when he makes it up the stairs. I head into the kitchen, switching on the kettle and retrieving some mugs. 

I add a teabag to each one and sugar to mine. Paul walks in and closes the door behind him. "Good morning." He drawls, clearly mocking the fact that it's early evening and I'm in pyjamas. "Bugger off, Paul. I was bored and I didn't have anything else to do." I justify, taking the kettle off the boil and pouring. 

"Do you take sugar?" I enquire and he laughs. "No, danke. I'm sweet enough." He grins and I have to agree with him. He certainly is. I finish making the tea and pass him his mug, pointing to the living room where he follows. 

We sit on the sofa together, and I turn on the TV for a little background noise. "So, why didn't you come over?" He asks and I blink a few times. "Well..I..um...I didn't want to just invite myself over." I mumble quietly and he smiles brightly. 

"And here I am throwing stones at your window." He jokes and I take a sip of my tea. "Yes. It's very 1940s love story." I tease lightly and he winks. I internally squeal but keep my face cool and expression plain and simple. He winked at me. Ahhhhh. 

"Anyway, I was wondering if you'd like to come to my house tonight? You know, for a little gathering." He adds quickly and I raise my eyebrows. 

"When you say 'gathering' do you mean a group of people or just me and you?" I question suspiciously and he smirks. "No, my fish will be there too." He teases and I sigh at him, drinking my tea. 

"There's two of them. Cod and Haddock." He announces and I splutter through my tea. "Oh my God. You named your fish after fish." I giggle, snorting like some unattractive pig. 

I stop myself quickly while he smiles at my response. "The guys will be there. The rest of Rammstein, I mean." He elaborates, and I nod. "I know what you meant." I acknowledge.   
I will admit, I have searched a few times on Google about the band and the other members are also hot as fuck. But Paul is my favourite. 

"The other guys, they speak English right? I still have to brush up on my German." I admit quietly and he pats my back reassuringly. "They all speak perfect English...well..as perfect as they can get." He scoffs and I laugh. 

"Don't underestimate them. I'm sure their English is better than my German. It's nice of you, Paul, but-"  
"No buts." He interupts before I can speak my case. 

"You are coming over. I insist." He rises from his seat on the sofa. "Danke für den Tee." He gestures to his mug for translation and I nod. "You're welcome, but Pa-"  
Paul ignores me and wanders into the kitchen to place his mug on the counter. 

"I'll see you in an hour." He smiles cheekily and I rush over to stop him. "But Paul, I start uni in three days and-"  
"Goodbye, Alex." He slips through the door. 

"Paul! Get back here!" I yell down the stairs as he skips down them effortlessly. He stops at the main door and looks up at me, grinning. "I'll see you in an hour!" He calls cheerfully and I stick up my finger at him. 

He goes through the main door before I can curse at him in Welsh and I go through my door and slam it shut, sliding down it reluctantly. 

Looks like I'm going to a party.


	5. The Gathering

The large front door is black and forbidding, and it reminds me of the type of door that opens by itself when you knock it. I stand frozen before it, one hand in midair, the other one clutching the bottle of wine I halfheartedly picked up from a shelf in the local shop around the corner. 

Even through the thickness of the door, I can hear raucous laughter, whoops and shouts. I flinch at the level of noise, hoping they're not already drunk. I can't even remember how many there are of them. 

Four more? Five? 

I brace myself and knock firmly on the door, or as firm as my small feminine hands will let me. I take deep breaths as I hear the noise quieten, and someone makes their way to the door, swinging it open, and there stands Paul with a bottle of beer in his hand. 

"Alex, guten abend! Come in! You look great." He compliments and I blush, glancing down at my clothes nervously. Aftet an hour of debating, yelling and sighing, I've decided on my P!ATD t-shirt and skinny black jeans along with my checkered shoes. 

Okay, I admit, I'm also wearing a beanie and my purple hair is sticking out of it in tufts. I like that Paul thinks I look good. He leads me through the hallway, pulling me by the hand, and into the living room. 

"Is that wine?" He takes the bottle and examines the label. "Rose? Nice! Danke." He sounds pleased and goes to ruffle my  hair as praise but notices the beanie and stops. 

"I won't mess it up." He teases, poking my nose instead and I smile nervously in return. The five other men are sprawled across various bits of furniture; two sofas and an armchair. "I'll sit here." I murmur softly, going to perch cross legged on the floor but Paul plops down into the armchair and pats his leg suggestively. 

"You can sit here with me." He grins cheekily and I blush, feeling awkward to just stand there. "Guys!" Paul clears his throat in announcement and they go quiet, turning their attention to me. I look down at my checkered shoes, feeling hot and flustered. 

"This is Alex. He's moved in next door. He's starting uni on Monday." Paul introduces and the guys nod and smile. "This is Richard." He points to a spiky haired guy in tight jeans who gives a smile. "Hey." 

"Schneider." The hot one with the long hair and stubble, smiles sexily.   
"Flake." The keyboardist with the glasses AKA my twin, plus a few years, lifts a hand.   
"Olli." The bald bass guitarist who gives a shy wave as I face them all, giving awkward little waves and nods in return. 

"And of course, you already know Till." Paul adds.

Till who is sitting in an armchair on his own in the corner, smiles. "I thought I recognised you. You're the student Paul and I went shopping with." He states and I nod, remembering him carrying the bags. "That's right. Thanks for helping by the way." I mumble shyly and he smiles. "You're welcome." He waves a hand dismissively. 

"Alex is from Wales." Paul fills the rest of the guys in and Schneider smiles. "A beautiful country. We played there once. So much to see. Countryside and nature. Lots of rain though." He adds in amusement and the guys laugh along quietly. 

"Yeah, the country is pretty rainy. It's sunny now and then, but the scenery makes up for the weather." I mumble quietly but proudly and Schneider smiles shyly at my comment. 

"I'd love to go back. I had an interesting time while I was there." He adds softly and I blush a little from pride. "Cymru am byth!" I mumble in a cheerful manner and he narrows his eyebrows. "What does that mean?" He questions and I feel a little embarrassed. 

"Uhmm..'Wales forever'." I translate and he smiles. "That's cute." He comments almost mockingly and the guys chuckle, while I glow red and tap my feet nervously on the floor. 

Way to go, Alex. You spoke in a language that no one understands. Well done. Sarcasm there. The Welsh have always been sarcastic. 

"Paul, do us all a favour and open that wine. I'm parched." Richard groans complaining, waving his painted nails extravagantly. Paul chuckles and pops open the lid, grabbing glasses to fill while the guys informally queue up for a glass. 

"Alex?" Paul tilts the glass towards me as an offer but I shake my head firmly. "I'm fine. Thanks anyway." I mumble sheepishly and Till laughs at my comment. "Have a glass." He passes it to me with a stern but playful look and I sigh. 

Peer pressure much. 

I wrap my fingers tentatively around the stem, tipping it back towards my lips and taking a large gulp before I can think about it. It runs through me, sharp and sweet, and I gasp from surprise, lowering the glass to meet their eager, waiting smiles. 

"Well?" Till smirks at my face. "It's...good." I admit shyly and they laugh. "Of course it is, though I prefer beer." Till heads through into what I presume is the kitchen. "Ja, that's it, just steal my beer without asking." Paul smirks sarcastically at him and Till gives him the finger playfully. 

"Right then." Richard saunters over to the stereo and presses it on, sending loud party music blasting through the speakers. "Let's get drunk!" 

          *****************

I don't know what time it is. It's been a few hours, I know that. My head is sore and my limbs are achy. I have danced, climbed on tables, sat on laps, had my hair ruffled and stroked by Schneider who has officially made a pet of me. 

I've lost my beanie hat somewhere, almost smashed my glasses, been thrown around during a group dance and I'm pretty sure that the five empty beer cans on the coffee table are mine.

Most of the guys removed their shirts and I think Richard lost his trousers during a card game. If I remember rightly, one of the guys gave Olli a lap dance but I don't want to give it too much thought. My checkered shirt is on the floor in a heap, but my t-shirt is still on thank God. I'd die if they saw my scars from top surgery. I've been asleep, but for how long? 

My neck is stiff, and I realise my head is on Paul's shoulder, who is snoring lightly. I lift my head and a sharp pain runs through it. Shit. I grab it with my hand, groaning softly. Schneider waltzes in, completely unaffected from his binge drinking and flops into the armchair, smiling at my sorry state. 

"It's always hard the first time. I didn't get out of bed for three days the first time I got drunk." He chuckles, finishing off another can on the table. "What time is it?" I groan, stretching slowly, feeling delicate. 

"Half past two." He smiles and I almost swallow my teeth. "Two? In the morning? How long have I been sleeping?" I stammer and he shrugs, looking at his watch. "About an hour, maybe. We partied till about one." He estimates and I sigh, groaning at the pain in my head. 

"Come here." He beckons me over and I groan. I lower myself off the sofa onto the floor, literally crawling over to him. "I'll play with your hair again." He offers and that lifts my spirits a little. 

I make it over without vomitting everywhere which is a positive. I turn around so my back rests against his knees, as I sit cross legged on the floor. He proceeds with the stroking like earlier tonight and I relax, bringing my knees up so I can rest my weary head on them. 

He runs his slender fingers through my hair, pulling it back from my hairline and letting flop back into the place, again and again, while I close my eyes in bliss. "Go back to sleep, Purple." He nicknames, referencing to my overly dyed hair. 

"I'll try, though I should probably go home." I go to stand up but his movements through my hair make me think again and slide back down onto my ass. "Stay." He murmurs softly and my eyes begin to droop, as his stroking continues. "Go to sleep." 

My head tilts back so he can keep going and my eyes shut, a yawn escapes me and although I know I'll have one hell of a hangover tomorrow morning, I succumb to sleep.


	6. Aftermath

My phone buzzes, vibrating loudly, a sign that I've got an incoming phone call and my hand reluctantly reaches out from the covers, into cold air and I flinch, grabbing the phone without even opening my eyes. 

I press the answer button and lift the phone to my ear. "Hello?" My voice is quiet to avoid the splitting headache from attacking me again. I lower my head onto the pillow and that's when she speaks. "Alex, are you okay, are you settling in? Did you eat this morning?" Mam's voice is chirpy as always and is bright as ever this time of morning. 

"Hi Ma. I'm fine. I called last week-"  
"Once a week isn't good enough, Alex! I'm your mother and I worry. Now, did you eat breakfast? Do you need anything? How are your neighbours?" She interrogates and I groan. This is something I will not miss.

"Breakfast? No not yet." I admit and she sounds outraged. "Not yet? Don't tell me you've only just woken up!"   
I open my eyes properly for the first time to see a large room which is dark because of the closed purple curtains but streaks of daylight are shining through. 

I flop back down onto the bed and sigh at Mam's ranting. "What time is it?" I groan, fearing the worst and she gasps. "You are in bed! You lazy little shit. You students are all the same." She sighs down the phone and I think here we go again. 

Mary Louise Jones has always been an overdramatic and stressful woman. One small statement she doesn't agree with and she'll rant at you for hours if you don't cut her off. Even if you do manage to cut her off without her killing you, she'll try to lecture you the next time she sees you. 

"Mam, just tell me what time is it. Please." I stress the last word and she sighs, heavily. "Half past eleven. If you haven't got out of bed yet you should be ashamed of yourself. But I forgive you." She adds quickly and I gasp at the revelation. Half eleven? The fuck?

"Okay, Mam. Thanks. I have to go now. Goodbye." I try trailing off but she jumps in quickly. "Make sure you eat something. Promise. And take a shower." She concludes. "Okay, goodbye Mam." I try desperately, and she sighs. 

"Okay, Alex. Goodbye. I love you! Make sure you eat something and-" I hang up before she can continue and I shove my phone onto the bedside table. I flop onto the bed, my head buried into the pillow. 

I've been asleep nine hours. I fell asleep on the floor thanks to Schneider but how'd I get up here? I doubt I got up the stairs with my headache. At least, not on my own. Someone must have carried me. 

I'm still wearing my P!ATD t-shirt and jeans. My glasses are on the bedside table so I slip them on and immediately, everything is clearer. Then the covers shift to the other side of the bed, pulled over by something. No. 

Not something. Someone. Shit.   
Please don't tell me I went to bed with someone. Oh God, am I even in Paul's house? What if I left last night and met a complete stranger. Jesus Christ, Alex, you have to do stupid things that will get you into trouble, don't you? 

The person rolls over, covering themself with the blankets further, snuggling into them, their head covered. 

I reach out with a shaky hand and place my hand on the bump of the person, presumably their back. "Um..excuse me?" I pat the back warily, aware of the groans they've started to make. Or rather, he has started to make. 

It's a man. I don't know if that's better or worse. 

"Alex, is that you? What time is it?" He asks from beneath the covers and I sigh in relief. If he knows my name, that's probably a good thing.   
"It's half eleven." I inform and he groans again, nowhere near as freaked out as I was when I found out. 

"You must sleep late often." I observe and he laughs. "I'm a drummer, it's what I do." He announces with another chuckle and I freeze. 

Drummer? 

I peel back the covers warily, and just as I thought, a mass of dark curls greets me, the back of his head showing. Schneider rolls onto his back and sits up, lifting his arms, stretching as he yawns.

He groans as the light shining through the curtains gets in his eyes, turning away and covering them. He smiles at me sleepily, throwing back the covers to reveal him shirtless and in his boxers. 

"Guten morgen." He addresses, without a care in the world. "Why am I in your bed?" I yell, jumping out of it as if its quicksand. "And why aren't you wearing a shirt? Where are your trousers?" I groan, thinking the worst but he smiles. "It's okay, calm down. It was hot last night." He shrugs calmly and my eyes widen. 

"Hot? Why, what happened? What did we do?" I run my fingers through my hair in exasperation and his eyes widen. "Whoa, not like that! I meant the temperature was hot so I took off my shirt." He clarifies with an embarrassed smile and I groan at my stupidity. 

Well done, Alex. You've implied that you slept together. Nice one. 

"And this isn't my bed." He adds further. "This is Paul's spare room." He leans over the side of the bed, and grabs his t-shirt before pulling it on. 

"Come on. Let's get breakfast." He bounds over to the door but I hang back, the pain in my head severe. "Jesus Christ." I lower myself to the floor, and Schneider retreats back over to me. "Your head is really fucked up today, huh?" He sighs with sympathy, his arms wrapping around my waist. 

"I'll carry you downstairs, Purple." He lifts me gently, and slowly leaves the room to get to the stairs, taking them one at a time. My body feels like it's swaying although I know he's barely moving, only stepping once every few seconds, but it's enough to make me feel sick.

I heave and Schneider stops at the bottom of the stairs. "You feeling sick?" He asks softly and I answer with a groan. "I'm..fine. Oh...God.." I murmur softly to myself, as he leads me carefully into the living room where Paul is cheerfully eating a bowl of cereal. 

Schneider sets me down on the sofa and I groan from the pain in my head. Paul smiles at me. "Good morning!" He yells and I curse. "Paul..." I whimper and Schneider passes me a glass of orange juice and an aspirin. 

"Paul, quiet. His head hurts." Schneider takes a seat next to me, and places the aspirin in my mouth. "Drink up." He tilts the glass to my lips, and I chug it down before the coldness can give me brain freeze. 

I shudder and stare across at Paul who keeps chewing his cereal. He glances up at me, taking in my dishevelled hair and scrunched up face from sleep. "You look gorgeous." He teases with a grin and I stick up my finger. 

"Ooh, you must be feeling bad if you're swearing. Where did you sleep by the way?" He enquires and Schneider answers for me. "With me. We shared the bed upstairs." He informs and I swear Paul's face darkens for a second. 

He looks almost angry but Schneider is too busy collecting empty beer cans to notice. It passes after a second and he goes back to smiling, as if nothing happened. "You want breakfast?" He offers. "I make a good bacon sandwich." He grins and I go to shake my head but think better of it. 

"No thank you, Paul. I feel sick." I inform and he shrugs. "So? It could help you." He announces and I groan at his enthusiasm. "Please, Paul. I really don't want anything." I protest weakly but he's already heading into the kitchen. 

"Paul..." I sigh, laying my head on the arm of the sofa, not bothering to challenge him anymore, he's not going to listen. 

I close my eyes, drifting between half asleep and jolting awake, for at least twenty minutes, until Paul wakes me up with a gentle shove. "Alex!" He calls cheerfully, brandishing a plate topped with a bacon sandwich. 

"Wakey wakey!" He cheers.   
I flop my head onto the sofa once again, groaning. "Ughhh. I hate my life."


	7. Happy Saint Vomit Day

"Bleuuuurghhh!" Another surge of vomit exits me in a vile waterfall as I hunch over the toilet, Schneider rubbing my back rhythmically, while Paul grimaces, observing from the bathroom door. 

"I told you he shouldn't have eaten that bacon sandwich, Paul." Schneider scolds while I projectile vomit into Paul's once clean and shiny toilet. I grip onto the edges of the seat with trembling fingers as I shake all over, my forehead pounding, my ears ringing. 

I'm never drinking again. 

"Uhhh." I finish for now, sliding down onto the floor, lowering the toilet lid and resting my head on it. I close my eyes for a blissful second, groaning at the pain, while Schneider kneels behind me, his cool hand pressed against my forehead. "You're really warm." He observes and I nod slowly, my delicate heading screaming. 

I knew my breakfast, courtesey of Paul would make me sick. The sheer smell of the bacon frying was enough to send me gagging, and eating it proved too much for my system. 

Now I'm officially regretting my life choices and ready to die. And I haven't even started uni yet. I turn to face Schneider and Paul who hold concerned looks on their faces, and I bury my face in my hands. Embarrassed isn't a strong enough word. 

"Please tell me the other guys aren't here." I beg, groaning at the idea of another person seeing me in such a state. "Sure. They left early. Maybe three o'clock." Paul estimates and I sigh. Partying until two o'clock then staying in bed till eleven in the morning was not my idea of being a smart ass student when I arrived. 

But then I met Paul. 

So far, being sick in someone else's toilet, instead of going to university and getting my degree is the plan.  
Expectations versus reality. 

Schneider lifts me with one strong yank of my hand, he pulls me to my feet and I clutch at my head. "Come on, Purple. Schneider's gonna take care of you. I'll find you a blanket." He leads me to the living room for the third time since the bacon sandwich and gestures for me to sit on the sofa. 

I lower myself down, and rest my legs across it, laying there helplessly. "I'm so sorry about this, Paul." I apologise while Paul giggles, continuing to clear the plastic cups and cans he was removing before I stole the show with my vomit display. 

"It's okay, Alex. I'll take care of you." He repeats Schneider's words and Schneider looks up from his blanket gathering in the corner. "I said I'll do that Paul, don't worry." He assures, covering me with a thin, fleecy blanket, and tucking me in on the sofa. 

He checks my forehead again with his hand and sighs. "I hope you're not getting ill." He tuts, smoothing the blankets in a motherly fashion, while Paul stands frozen, his plastic cups forgotten as he assesses Schneider's role as Mother. 

I notice the slight frown cross Paul's features before he turns and empties the cans into the bin in the kitchen. Schneider remains oblivious and turns on the TV. "You watch whatever you want. I'm going to fetch you some paracetemol and water." He heads into the kitchen while I flick through until I land on the English channels. 

I decide on a programme on cake making, watching transfixed, as I pay more attention to it, the more I want a slice of cake. Schneider takes his seat, lifting my legs, and laying them on his lap. "I want cake." I mumble as we watch and Schneider laughs. 

"Nein, Alex. You'll be sick again." He warns and I groan, knowing he's right but damn, I want cake. "But that unicorn cake looks so good." I point out at the TV and Schneider frowns. "You like unicorns?" He smirks and I shrug, face burning. 

"What's wrong with that?" I defend, arms folding and shrugs back, not caring. "Nothing. It's just cute, you're kinda...feminine." He describes and I tense up, arms tightening across my chest. 

"I'm not feminine." I argue, through almost gritted teeth and Schneider shrugs. "Just saying. I'm feminine too. It's no big deal-"  
"I'm not feminine!" I repeat, louder and Paul comes back in, observing the scene. 

"You can't call him that." Paul agrees, noticing the panic in my eyes as an unexpected wave of dysphoria sweeps through me. I cover my chest with my arms although there's nothing there to hide away more. 

"I'm sorry, Alex. I didn't mean to offend you." Schneider flushes red with embarrassment, his gentle hand reaching out to ruffle my hair. "It was just a statement, not a judegement." He promises but I cringe a little, shrivelling inside. 

"I'm...please don't call me that." I whimper, trying to keep my voice under control. Schneider sighs and lifts me up, pulling me to his side of the sofa, laying my head on his shoulder. 

I wrap my arms around his neck, groaning weakly. "I....I'm....tra-"  
"You don't need to explain, Purple." He cuts me off become I can out myself, and I sigh, half relief, half disappointment. 

"I won't say it again." He promises, grabbing the fleecy blanket and wrapping it around me. "Whatever it is that made you get offended by it, I don't need to know. It's your business." He assures and I'd prefer to stay quiet if that's how he feels, but Paul pipes up immediately. 

"Alex told me. About his identity." He admits and Schneider looks at me, confused. "It's a gender thing." He guesses and I nod shyly. "You don't need to tell me, I'm sure I can figure it out." He winks and I smile a little, continuing to cuddle into him.

"Now, take your paracetemol." He passes me the pills and water and gives me a firm look. "Sure, if it'll help my headache." I shrug, chugging it back in one gulp and flopping back against the sofa, sighing. 

I close my eyes for a second, feeling the cool brush of his fingertips against my forehead. I hear Paul head up the stairs, his light feet padding on each one, while Schneider nestles his head in my shoulder as I lay across the sofa. 

"Come here." He mumbles softly, rolling me over to face him, so we lay beside each other. He runs his finger down my nose, and my eyes close sleepily, yawning. 

Then as I start to fall asleep, halfway there, maybe more, I feel him press his lips lightly against mine, and the last thought I have as I drift into sleep is, does Schneider like me? 

Fuck, life in Berlin is confusing.


	8. Chapter 8

There is one thing I hate more than anything. More than dysphoria, more than burnt toast, more than clowns. I bloody hate clowns. They frighten the shit out of me. Those red noses and face paint and ugh. I hate clowns. 

That one thing I hate is when you're sleeping peacefully and a loud knock at the door wakes you up. I'm comfortably laying in my bed when someone has the audacity to wake me up from my slumber. 

I jolt awake and jump out of my bed. I squint at the alarm clock which hasn't gone off yet. That means it's before ten. Yes I'm lazy, but once uni starts it'll be early starts at seven and seminars at eight, and honestly, I need all the sleep I can get to prepare myself. 

It's half past eight in the morning. 

Who's waking me up at this hour? I pull on my dressing gown and head towards the front door, where the knocking persists. "Alright alright!" I groan, smoothing my hair down to look presentable. 

I pull open the front door and stand there squinting without my glasses and feel like an idiot when I realise Schneider is at my door. 

Immaculately dressed, attractive as always, he is beaming and wide awake, even though he didn't wake up until eleven at the aftermath of the party. 

I groan, realising that I look like an idiot in my dressing gown and lack of glasses. Where are my glasses? Fuck. 

I stand there nervously, not knowing what to do. 

"Alex." Schneider smiles and glances behind me, looking into the kitchen. "Are you going to invite me in?" He jokes, and I reluctantly step aside to let him into the apartment. "In the living room." I point and he goes to head inside but instead he looks me up and down, smirking at my navy boy shorts and vestop which are being revealed by the opening of my dressing gown. 

"I like your pyjamas." He smiles sexily, and enters the living room, leaving me a blushing idiot, turning as vibrant a colour as my hair. I trail after him, feeling miserable at him seeing me like this and irritated as I don't know whether or not to address the kiss from the party. 

He makes himself at home, settling on the sofa and even turning the TV on. I pause at the doorway and watch him in disbelief. "You okay?" He smirks, and I widen my eyes, reluctantly sitting beside him.

"You always this comfortable in other people's apartments?" I snark and shuffle over to the other end of the sofa. Schneider notices and slowly but deliberately scoots his way over to me. I glance up at him in warning and he smiles innocently. 

"You haven't told me why you're here." I get straight to the point and he sighs deeply, becoming more serious in an instant. He turns so he faces me and I sigh, leaning back without realising it to keep some space between us. 

"Look, you're eighteen, I'm in my fifties. I shouldn't have kissed you at Paul's party." He admits and I breathe a sigh of relief before feeling a sharp jolt of disgust and surprise. "You're in your fifties?!" I look him up and down, disbelieving him although he is Paul's friend and he's roughly the same age. 

"Jesus Christ!" I press my face into my hands with a groan and sigh. I reluctantly look back up at him. "You're older than my father!" I pull a face and he smiles tensely. "I thought as much. Look, I thought you might like to come for breakfast with me."  He suggests and I sigh deeply, knowing his charm will easily overpower me and make me agree. 

"Go on then." I succumb without thinking about it and immediately start heading towards my room where I can get dressed. "Hey!" I hear Schneider rushing up the stairs behind me and I groan, knowing he'll make himself at home in my bedroom, without my consent. 

I retrieve clean clothes and slope off to the bathroom to dress while Schneider flops onto my bed. "Seriously, the audacity of some people." I get washed and dressed quickly, throwing on jeans and my favourite vintage shirt. 

Back in my room, Schneider smiles at me from my bed. "You look hot as always." He winks and I sigh, heading towards the hallway to put on some shoes. He follows directly behind me of course and stands paitently while I put on my shoes and unlock the front door. 

"Come on then!" He pushes past me and rushes down the stairs, two at a time and I roll my eyes at his childishness. By the time I make it down the stairs and outside, Schneider is leaning against a sleek red sports car, grinning like some schoolboy. 

"Stop being a cocky bitch and get in the car." I slope around to the passenger side and slip into my seat through the unlocked car door. Schneider keeps grinning and jumps in, starting the car. "Where are we going for breakfast?" I question as he drives off. 

He glances at me smirking. "You'll see." 

                   **********************

Schneider pulls up with a screech of the brakes and I roll my eyes at the speed he was going all the way here. "Boy racer." I mumble under my breath and he chuckles, climbing out of the car. 

I join him outside and look around, trying to spot a cafe or a shop. "So, where's the breakfast place?" I fold my arms across my chest and he chuckles again, revealing a fob of keys. He gestures to the house behind him. 

"This. This is breakfast." He jogs up the path and unlocks the front door and it hits me. 

He's invited me over to his house. 

"Schneider, you sneaky little-" I trail off as he heads inside without me and I reluctantly follow. I find him in his huge kitchen which is full of technical machines and shiny countertops, not to mention the six seat breakfast bar. 

"You must have a lot of money." I let out an impressed whistle and he shrugs as if it's completely normal to have a huge house to yourself. "Don't you have children you share it with on weekends or something?" I suggest and he laughs loudly. 

"Me? Married with kids?" He snorts and retrieves glasses from a cupboard. "Orange juice, Dr. Pepper or water?" He offers and I take the carton from his hand, pouring the juice myself. 

"Orange, thank you." I take a quick sip before facing him. "Why bring me over when we could have eaten at my place?" I demand and he smirks, opening all the cupboards along the length of the counters. 

"I have more food than you and I thought you might like cooking lessons, especially now that you're starting university. This will be fun." He concludes and I groan. 

"So you've woken me up at half past eight just to give me a lesson in cooking like some Food Network show?" I outrage but he remains confident and smiling. "Sure. You're welcome." He teases, reaching to ruffle my hair but I step back quickly, out of his reach. 

"Hey now, no need to get moody." He smirks and brings pots and pans onto the stove of his oven. "I think we should start nice and easy." He places flour, eggs, butter and milk on the counter in front of me. "Pancakes." He adds and I sigh deeply. 

"This is ridiculous. I'm nearly nineteen years old and you're teaching me to make pancakes?" 

Schneider frowns for a second before regaining his composure and smiling. "I can see you're not feeling enthusiastic about this. I guess this will get you in the mood." 

"What will get me in the mo-" I'm cut off as Schneider dumps a considerable amount of flour over my head and rushes off into another room while shouting "Food fight!". 

"You are kidding me! Schneider, this is my FAVOURITE SHIRT!!!" I sprint after him as quickly as I can on the polished floor, brandishing an egg. 

I chase after him with the food, suddenly feeling a whole lot better as I launch the egg at his long, curly hair. It misses and the smiles slides off my face as it hits a framed photograph which slides off the wall. 

It smashes against the floor and Schneider's eyes widen before he glances up at me. 

I step backwards nervously. "Oh shit."


End file.
